


Control

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Seven Days (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-20
Updated: 2003-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 05:22:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1633709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone wants control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Control

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Apple Cameron

 

 

Title: Control  
For: Apple Cameron (WWToYT)  
Fandom: Seven Days  
Warnings: Angst and non-con. Yes, that includes some sexual scenes. Summary: Everyone wants control.   
 

* * *

  


Frank Parker roused slowly, his vision blurred and his mouth full of the metallic tang of his own blood. He fumbled with the straps on autopilot, moving through his post-back-step routine without conscious thought - evacuate the module, assess the local situation, sound the Conundrum alert, save the world... 

He paused, listening. A scrabbling sound outside the module was just audible on the edge of hearing. Unlocking the last of his restraints, he pulled his gun from its holster and eased the hatch-lock into the open position. The geometric shape burst from its anchorage with a gassy hiss. 

Eyebrows arched high in a familiar face as he took a step back. "Woah, man!" 

Parker exhaled sharply, then relaxed as he identified the other man. "Donovan?" Looking past his old friend at the gaggle of sphere technicians, he took in the familiar sights of the hangar. "You mean I finally landed one? Score!" 

Donovan smirked. "In a manner of speaking." Parker didn't have time to react as Donovan took a heavy tool from one of the technicians and brought it down expertly across the back of his head.   
 

* * *

  


He awoke to a white world of pain. He was no stranger to the medical facilities of the Backstep program, but even so, it took him several moments to acknowledge and identify what was wrong with the picture. It was the little things - a slightly different pitch to the quiet beeping of that doohickey in the corner whose purpose he never truly understood, a slightly different cast to the light the seeped in through the half-open door. 

_Devil's in the details,_ he thought to himself as a momentary distraction from the bite of the too-tight restraints that bound his wrists and ankles, and the dull heavy throb at the base of his skull. He looked around, craning his head as best he could, but the room was empty of people. He began to pull at his restraints, testing the fit, looking for weaknesses, for an escape route. 

_Donovan...shit._ The memory of his old friend knocking him out replayed over and over in his mind as he struggled to escape. One detail caught his mental eye, and he paused to reassess the memory. Major...not Captain. This Donovan wore the insignia of a Major. 

The slight squeak of rubber soles on linoleum snapped his awareness fully back into the present. He tilted his head, knowing it was useless to try and feign sleep. 

"Holy shit!" he cursed in recognition. 

The man stood silhouetted in the doorway a moment longer, but Parker knew that the bastard was smirking at him. Stepping fully into the room, the shape resolved itself fully into the form he knew. However, this man was in no way familiar to him. The Nathan Ramsey he knew never carried himself so gracefully, so lethally, and would never, ever, be caught dead in those clothes. 

Parker coughed and resettled himself into his restraints. "Geez, Ramsey. Black leather at your age?" 

The smack of the crop against his shins had him bucking more in surprise than pain. 

"Mister Parker," he said softly. The voice was familiar; the tone was not. Parker felt a slow trickle of fear run down his spine. "We need to have a little talk."   
 

* * *

  


The outer door to the secured medical facilities snicked shut. 

"Well?" 

Ramsey spat in disgust and tucked his crop back up into its accustomed position under his arm. "We could probably flay him alive and he wouldn't tell us a damn thing." His voice dropped as he snarled more to himself. "Arrogant son of a bitch." 

Donovan chuckled. "Some things never change. The more you hit him, the stronger his mental defenses will become." He grinned, showing white teeth. "Very Newtonian. Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. Yes, if the sphere pilot is a Parker, then he's a challenge to break." His smile changed into something more predatory. "Good thing we like a challenge, isn't it, Nathan?" Ramsey kept his eyes firmly fixed on the wall over Donovan's shoulder. Donovan reached up, grabbed Ramsey's chin, and jerked his face around so their eyes met. "Do you have a problem?" 

Ramsey's eyes flashed a momentary challenge, but then his posture drooped in submission. "No, sir," he ground out through clenched teeth. 

Donovan released his jaw and patted Ramsey on the head, like a dog. "Good boy," he added, enjoying the way Ramsey shuddered as he bit down on a snarl. "Now go to the monitor room." He leant forward to whisper in Nathan's ear. "I want you to watch." 

Donovan watched Ramsey walk stiffly up the corridor, then turned and used his thumbprint to unlock the door. Undoing a button on his uniform shirt, he schooled his features into a mimic of open friendliness, and strolled into the room. 

He paused and leaned against the frame of the inner door. Ramsey was an expert in his chosen field - it was one of the reasons why Donovan tolerated his eccentricities - and Parker had received his full attention. Bruises were already blossoming on his exposed skin, and the greenish hospital gown was speckled with his blood. 

He deliberately twisted the toe of his boot on the floor, creating a squeak that had Parker flinching ever so slightly before he fixed defiant eyes on his newest visitor. 

Donovan smiled. "Hey there." 

"Fuck off." 

"Geez, man, chill." The look Parker shot him was pure venom. Dropping the `friend' act, he walked over and took a closer look at the damage. Nathan was right to snarl at the idea of him alone with their guest - he knew Donovan's tastes. As he had countless times before, Donovan admired the form under the damage. He licked his lips in anticipation and wondered how much he could do to the bound figure before he broke. 

They always broke, in the end. Then he would have to throw out his toy, and go find a new one. 

He ran a gently finger up one arm, from the wrist restraint to the shoulder, then swirled it across Parker's chest, running across both nipples under the thin gown, before pulling his hand back the way it came. He did not miss the grimace of disgust and pleasure mixed into one that crossed the bound figure's face. 

Donovan snorted to himself. This toy wasn't going to last long at all. But he would be fun nevertheless.   
 

* * *

  


Parker shuddered as the stranger in his friend's face ran a single finger over his body. "What the fuck do you want?" 

The answering smile caused his heart to freeze. "You. Your sphere. It's power cells. The codes you contain. All of the above." Donovan leaned over until his face filled Parker's vision. "I think I'll take the first. The rest will follow on from there." 

Parker spat in his face. 

Donovan smiled, and making sure Parker was watching, he used his fingers to brush the spit off his face. Then, slowly, he slipped the fingers one by one into his own mouth and sucked them clean. He grinned inwardly as Parker's eyes widened. _Too easy,_ he thought to himself. 

"That was very naughty, Frank. Do you want me to call Nathan back in here?" He leaned down, until his face was inches from the other man's. "He wants to flay you alive, you know? But I know you're a reasonable man. I'm sure we can come to an...an agreement." He held himself still, just out of range, as Frank bucked, pulling the restraints to their limit. 

So predictable. But still interesting, nevertheless. 

"Finished? Good boy." Grinning, he darted down and pressed a quick, hard kiss to Parker's lips. Shock seemed to stop Parker from reacting until Donovan was well-clear again. Donovan wondered if Parker knew he licked his lips, or whether it was just an automatic reaction to his being kissed. 

"So, where to begin?" He let his eyes roam over the battered body under the thin hospital gown, not bothering to disguise his intent. The thin gown and expanse of exposed skin failed to disguise the way muscles shifted under skin as Parker fought not to squirm under the scrutiny. 

"Shall we start with your mission?" They had already cracked the codes on the data pellet he carried, but Parker had no way of knowing that. This would be a good test. Only once Parker was brought under his heel would they move on to his main goal, the activation codes. After that, well... 

But Parker stayed resolutely silent. 

Donovan smiled, reached out and pinched one of Frank's nipples through the thin fabric, digging his sharp nail cruelly into the skin. This time Parker's back arched off the table before he fought and won back his control. 

"Silence isn't one of your options, Frank." He rubbed the abused skin smooth with his thumb. "Neither is lying. Just so you know." 

"Don't...leave a guy...a lot of options," Frank managed to spit out. 

Donovan smiled and let the hand on Frank's chest drift lower. "I can see we're in for a long night."   
 

* * *

  


Parker swallowed hard, the thudding of his heartbeat loud in his ears. This bastard wearing Donovan's face had not spoken for several moments. Instead he was just watching, eyes roaming freely over his body, like they were memorizing terrain. 

Frank was more unsettled than he'd care to admit, even to himself. 

The first touch was more like a caress, the slightest ghosting across the hairs of his arms. Frank closed his eyes, and forced himself to think of anything else than what was happening to his body. 

His eyes snapped back open as Donovan applied pressure against the edge of the large bruise on his upper bicep. He exhaled sharply as Donovan began to drag a heavy finger around the periphery, sending sparks of sensation up and down the limb. 

"No running away, Mister Parker," he almost purred. "I want you to keep me company. Tell me about your Backstep program." 

"Go to hell," Frank snapped out. In response, Donovan placed his thumb in the middle of the bruise and squeezed. 

"That wasn't very nice, Mister Parker," he responded evenly. The thumb released, and was replaced by a smooth stroking motion. Despite himself, Frank felt the muscles in his arm and shoulder muscles start to unclench. 

Silence filled the room again as Donovan continued his strangely tender ministrations. Working down the arm, he moved over the restraint and began to stroke each of Parker's fingers separately, before jumping down to begin to touch and stroke Frank's thigh. 

Frank closed his eyes as the touches became more personal, more sensuous. "You do this for everyone, or just your special guests?" he asked sarcastically, looking for anything to distract him from the light, sure fingers that were stroking down the lines of muscle in his leg. 

A chuckle was his only reply. Focussing on his breathing, he tried to think of other things - anything - to distract himself from the patterns Donovan was tracing onto his bound, bare legs. To help him ignore the growing warmth that was pooling in his groin. 

Donovan's fingers had worked their way down to the soles of his feet, tracing around every bruise and cut Ramsey had created. Frank's breathing became more ragged as Donovan worked up and down his feet with his nails, creating a sensation that teetered on the border between pain and pleasure. 

"Do you like that, Mister Parker?" 

Frank gritted his teeth, keeping silent. This tactic earned him a gentle `tsk' from the other man. 

"What did I say about silence?" Donovan said mildly. Standing at the base of the table to which Frank was strapped, he leant forward and stretched, running his hands up the entire length of Parker's spread and bound legs, ending with his hands splayed intimately around the curve of flesh at the very top of his legs. Strong fingers began to dig and press into the skin, playing on the pressure points. 

Frank was horrified to feel his penis twitch in response. He screwed his eyes shut and tried to call to mind every horrible, anti-sexual image his brain possessed. His attention was snatched back by a low chuckle, breath puffing against his legs. Instinctively, he opened his eyes and looked down as far as he could in the restraints. Seconds later, he pressed his head back into the restraints, suppressing a groan as a warm, wet tongue began to lick and rasp down the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. The mental image of the dark head between his pale thighs reverberated around his skull. 

Donovan continued to lay light, feathery kisses and soft nips down one leg and up the other, before moving to taste his way across Parker's stomach. Despite the fact that neither mouth nor hands and come close to his dick, Parker felt himself begin to harden. _Damn it, no. Not now,_ he thought to himself fiercely as he struggled to get control over himself. 

The warm wet trail continued upwards, pushing aside the hospital gown before it, exposing more and more skin to the cold room. Parker knew it was coming, but still was unable to control a shudder when the mouth latched onto his bruised nipple. Nerve endings were misfiring all down his chest as his body struggled to react to this new, gentle stimuli so soon after being beaten. 

In the restraints, his hands clenched into fists. The feeling of his nails biting half-moons into his palm only added to the cacophony of sensations. 

The mouth on his chest resumed its upwards movement. One heavy hand landed on his forehead, pushing his skull into the headrest. He opened his eyes to see the face looming above him. The mouth was curving into a smile even as it descended to kiss his unresponsive. 

He felt a single tear roll down the side of his face as he felt a hand finally close around his dick, stroking hard to bring him to an unwanted completion. As the brief spasms of orgasm subsided, the mouth released him. He panted for breath, cursing himself for his weakness. 

He refused to open his eyes again. The voice, when it spoke from somewhere above his head, was flat. "I own you, Parker. Never forget that."   
 

* * *

  


Donovan walked out of the medical suite, wiping his hands clean on a green towel. As he expected, Nathan was waiting. He could tell just from the furrow of Nathan's brow that he was not happy. 

Donovan smiled. "I suspect that one has quite a story to tell as to how he got to pilot his timeline's Sphere," he observed, grinning inwardly as the furrow deepened. "He's tougher than the rest. More resilient, better at coping with things that are beyond his control." 

Nathan's fingers twitched as he caressed the stock of his crop. "But we need what he knows about his Sphere. We're so close to finishing our own, we can't afford to waste any resource that we can collect. So what are we going to do with him?" 

Donovan walked towards. "Give him back control," he said simply. "For a little while. Come with me. And bring me your pet."   
 

* * *

  


Silent, unseen vents moved cold, stale air around the room. The currents stroked against abused skin, soothing welts and cuts, raising goosebumps. 

The padded restraints prevented Parker from curling up into a foetal position in defense against what this place was going to throw at him next. He wondered, in that part of his brain that never stopped ticking, what exactly had gone wrong to bring him here. Wherever - whenever - here was. 

A tiny noise, little more than a mousy squeak, sent him hurtling back into his immediate environment. He jerked his face around to the only door, searching desperately for this latest threat. Two terrified eyes shining out of a pale, boyish face stared back. 

Parker couldn't help the small cry that escaped his lips as a jolt of recognition passed through him. "Hooter?" 

The young man crept a little way further into the room, almost cowering behind a trolley. His worried eyes kept being drawn to the ceiling and the corners of the room, as if afraid he was about to be swooped on and devoured. "F-ff-frank?" he stuttered out so quietly that Parker had to strain to hear him over the background hum of the facility. 

Frank nodded, unsure of where this latest known but unfamiliar associate was going to try and take him. 

"T-they're coming to kill you. W-we've g-got to g-get you out." Darting across the room hunched almost double, he began to work on the nearest wrist strap. As soon as he had managed to unthread the strap, Frank pulled his arm clear and began working on the other as Hooter moved to until his feet. Standing, Parker stopped and swayed as his body tried to reclaim his balance after countless hours strapped to his torture bed. 

Cloth was being bundled against bruised and broken skin, and he hissed in pain and surprise. "D-dress. So you w-won't look so-so suspicious." 

"Why are you helping me?" Frank kept his voice low and pitched not to alarm the terrified boy. 

"T-there have been others...other F-frank's. T-they always tried to help me. T-time I returned the f-favour," he stuttered out painfully. His head whipped around as voiced echoed through the empty door. "C-come on!" He tugged at Frank's wrist. 

Wincing as Hooter aggravated sores created by the restraints, he followed him out of his chamber and into a short, brightly lit corridor. Scuttling down to the other door, Hooter opened it, looked out left and right, then gestured frantically for Frank to follow. 

Frank panted after Hooter as they dashed down seemingly endless twists of corridor. Sometimes he heard voices of people passing nearby, but never saw anyone else. Finally, they came up to a heavier security door. Opening it with even more care and suspicion, Hooter took several glances around before waving Frank through. 

As they ducked behind a convenient pallet piled high with unidentifiable objects, Frank took in the familiar terrain. But one object in particular held his attention - the silver, scorched sphere that sat like a jewel in the very middle of the hangar. It was connected to a battery of computers and diagnostic equipment, and several thick cables, intertwined with coolant tubes, were plugged into the Sphere as well. 

"T-they're t-trying to get it ready to l-launch," Hooter whispered in his ear. "T-this is t-the first t-time th-they've managed to get a Sphere so intact." 

"Fuel?" 

Hooter pointed meekly at the thick hoses, glinting with condensation. "From all the other Sphere's th-they've caught." 

Parker grinned. He knew if Olga was here, she'd want to run tests and create models, try to figure out exactly what lead him to this place as a way of figuring out how to create the reverse trip. 

Frank just wanted away. And if it fucked with this place's bastardized version of Donovan, then so much the better. 

"Can you get me in there?" 

Hooter's eyes were as large and round as his namesake's. "W-why?" 

Parker just grinned and slapped his shoulder. "Cos I don't belong here. You said you wanted to help me - can you help me get into my Sphere?" 

Hooter nodded slightly. "It s-shouldn't be locked, the t-technicians have been in and...I c-could disconnect the fuel lines...let you g-get a c-clean startup...." 

Parker squeezed the painfully thin shoulder under his hand. "Good. Thankyou." He tossed a look around the hangar to make sure no-one was near enough to catch them before they made their goal. "Ready? Go!" 

Waiting long enough to see Hooter disappear into the shadows in that peculiar running crouch he favoured, Parker turned and forced himself to stroll casually across the hangar floor. The clothes the kid had stolen for him, combined with an attitude that just screamed that he had every right to be there, might be enough to help him hide in plain sight until he reached his goal. He resisted the strong urge to run away, to smash this hellhole to bits, to scream. He had to keep moving. 

_Nothing to see here,_ he repeated to himself like a mantra as he sauntered up the metal stairs and around the Sphere. As Hooter had predicted, the hatch was opened wide and several thin electronics cables showed where diagnostic tools had been plugged into slots on the Sphere's console. Hoping he wasn't setting off any alarms, he ripped them out and took his seat. A thud and clunk he felt through the seat told him that the lines had been disconnected. _Go Hooter! Glad some things never change._

It felt strange, having ungloved fingers type in the activation sequences and security overrides he needed. But he pushed all other concerns to the side and forced himself to focus as he wrapped his hands around the stick. Anywhere, even dead, was better than here. _Time to go._

The building whine of the Sphere's power-up hiccuped, faded and died. Jerking forward, Parker wasted only a second taking in the blank, dead screens before he hurled himself out of the cramped confines of the cockpit. What was moments ago an empty hangar was now swarming with people - jumpsuited technicians and armoured guards. He tried to fight, but the beatings and his fatigue sapped the strength from his punches, and too soon he was on his knees on the grating, his arms locked into position by two burly guards. 

Shiny boots stepped into his line of sight. There was only one bastard in this hellhole of a timeline who would have boots you could see your reflection in. "Hey, Ramsey..." 

The boots weren't just shiny, he reflected a moment later as he spat blood from his mouth. They were also steel-capped. Strong hands twisted into his hair, and pulled at his head until he was forced to look up. Ramsey's snarling face was inches from his. "Thankyou for the activation codes, Mister Parker. Your cooperation in this matter won't go unrewarded. For one thing, I'm not gonna kill you where you stand." 

The hand holding him up abruptly let go as Ramsey took a step back. "Get him on his feet." As the guards hauled him upright, he looked up, ready to spit blood at the bastard. The scene that greeting him stopped him cold in shock. Hooter had reappeared, and was kneeling by Ramsey, his hands behind his back, his face down. As he watched, Ramsey absent-mindedly ran one gloved hand over Hooter's hair, like a man patting his favoured pet. "Good boy," Ramsey purred. "For this you will get a treat." Hooter leaned into the touch adoringly, and Frank felt his stomach curdle all over again. 

Ramsey looked up again, and his face twisted into a cold parody of a smile. "You two. Take our guest to Major Donovan's private quarters. Strip that uniform off his carcass and make sure he is properly secured." 

He stepped forward, his voice quieting. "You seem to have caught the Major's attentions, Parker. But don't worry. When he's finished with you, I'm sure we'll be able to have share quality time ourselves. But in the meantime..." he looked Parker up and down, opening appraising and dismissing what he saw. "I think I'll just watch." 

He jerked his head and the guards pulled Parker roughly through the door. Even as he kept himself alert for an opportunity to escape, Frank cursed his own stupidity. The guards dragged him before a heavy steel door. It was opened for them, and he was dragged inside. When he saw what was inside, Frank stopped cursing. 

He started praying. 

~fin~ 

 


End file.
